Firefly Song
by Nyte Quill
Summary: River was supposed to end up on the TARDIS, but her vortex manipulator had put her on the wrong ship. She manages to have a decidedly River effect on everyone while she's on board. couldn't sleep. wrote this. hope you like it. each chapter will be a new group or character interaction. Rated T to be safe. they're all in it, but I can only choose 4 characters.
1. Oops! or Right Stream, Wrong Ship

_River Song in a Firefly- the mind races... _

She'd been aiming for the TARDIS. A girl couldn't just sit in prison waiting for the fun to come to her and besides, she missed her husband.

She has appeared in the bay of a swiftly moving ship, and a decidedly non-TARDIS scent and sound envelopes her- right before a hammer cocks in the air above her head. Her fingers are at her vortex manipulator in a flash but not quite fast enough. A male voice drawls out a command not to move and warns against sudden movements, and she smiles at the sound. Hands up in mock surrender, she raises her eyes to the walkway above and waits. The man who's just spoken stands in her direct eyeline, and she lets her gaze travel slowly over his worn boots, fitted pants, red shirt beneath suspenders over a decidedly fit chest, and a handsome face beneath thick dark hair with a hint of wave. His dark eyes are piercing, and his mouth is set in a firm line beset by the occasional twitch. She can tell he's trying not to fidget and can't quite answer himself as to why; her smile widens to reveal a dimple and even white teeth. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up a few turns, revealing sleekly muscled forearms, well formed wrists, and hands quite nice for a man (_thought not quite as beautiful as the Doctor's_, she thinks) gripping a pair of glistening long barrel revolvers. The dichotomy of his weapons, speech pattern, and clothing against the technology of the ship in which they stand has her sliding one brow up towards her hair line as she mentally does the math. He swallows at the motion, and her mouth resets to a quirky smirk as the silence stretches between them a while.

"Whaddya reckon, Sir? If you've decided to roll that tongue of yours back into your mouth, that is..." A warm, wry, feminine tone has sounded over River's left shoulder and she winks at the man in charge (a Captain, perhaps) before turning her head to identify the new speaker. An Amazon stands frowning down at her. Booted feet planted in a firm stance, fitted jeans, a leather cincher and gauntlets at her wrists and waist, a sleek shirt, and a thin cord (probably leather) double wrapped around the deep bronzed skin at her throat. _No, not quite bronze, _River decides. _More like the mocha lattes in that little bistro in 26th Century Paris._ The woman is quite stunning, in beauty as well as presence, and atop the fine featured face still calmly awaiting instruction sits the most beautiful mass of barely restrained ebony locks River's seen since that expedition to Maranos. River notes with another broadening grin that the other woman's eyes have settled firmly on her own golden ringlets- possibly recognizing a kindred spirit beneath the curls?

She drags her appraising gaze back to the man before her, clearing her throat before speaking. "Sorry sweetie. I was aiming for... something else. Not really my fault if _your _ship got in _my _way. But if you want me off, all you have to do is let me..." her fingers again reach for the buttons at her wrist, freezing again when a new shooter announces themselves behind her to the right. Her shoulders tense at the noise, and she does a complete quarter turn to look this time. A brawny man, wearing militaristic garments and a knit hat that completely defies explanation or description, is holding an impressively sized shoulder canon casually cradled in his arms.

"Ooo-kay. Clearly we all have questions about what's going on, but number one is this: what in the name of sanity do you have on your head?" His mouth drops open for a moment, before his eyes narrow and he sets the gun against his shoulder. "This... was a gift from my mother. And don't nobody badmouth Mama Cobb's best efforts!" An edict to settle down has just issued from the man in charge when River acknowledges her blunder with a slight inclination of her head and pipes up. "My apologies, Mr... Cobb, was it?" At his grudging nod, she appears to consider it again and nods before continuing. "You're right. It is quite... fetching. A man walks down the street with _that _ on his head... well people know he's not afraid of anything." Mollified by her comment, Jayne shoulders the gun and asks the "Cap" what they're gonna do with her. The "Cap" seems to ponder this a moment, before holstering his pistols and responding, almost to himself. "What are we gonna do with her, indeed?"


	2. Doctor Doctor, and When Rivers Meet

**Chapter 2: wherein River goes for a checkup... and meets another River.**

**Simon** - they take her to the doc first off, to check her out and make sure they don't have another crazy River on their hands. She's quiet, almost excited when they mention a Doctor, and walks arm in arm with Mal down to the infirmary with a little spring in her step. Her notable disappointment when she sees him fades quickly during the examination, as they chat of Osiris and the Library planet he's grown up hearing about. They trade insults in Chinese, and she teaches him a few choice phrases of **complete** filth in languages that have gone unspoken by tongues any color than green or purple in several centuries. Their mutual brilliance is a fun sort of play, and he appreciates a sane (well, slightly saner) River to talk to. With permission, he tugs on one of her curls, and she pushes a few stray locks off his forehead, commenting that they're "floppy" with a slight quiver to her lower lip before she catches it between her teeth.

He's about to push a boundary, actually take her hand in his and ask what's bothering her, when River wanders in. She's mumbling under her breath about a River on board being unlikely, because of difficulties with water flow, when she sees the newcomer. With a barely suppressed sigh, Simon introduces River to River, and stands at the ready to tackle his sister should she do... something... Riverish. She merely assesses the woman before her, walking around her in a slow circle, and then dashes forward to snuggle under her arm. The slight sting at his sister's sudden transfer of affections is soothed by the Elder River's burst of startled laughter and the sweetly affectionate squeeze she gives the younger girl who begs to drag her away. They part with a fond handshake and a quiet admission in his ear that he's now her second favorite young Doctor. He presses a kiss to her cheek before the Rivers run off down the hall, and puzzles over the odd statement as he turns back to clear up the med bay.

**River** - it takes a few minutes for River to accept the presence and existence of another River on board. Once she's processed it, she glues herself to the woman's side. Rather than running for cover at the sight of her hair for fear of cranial collapse, she declares it magic space hair and sits fascinated for over an hour, pulling gently on each wild curl and letting it spring back while discussing temporal disruption and the surprising sweetness of illogical reverse time stream romance. The Elder River finds a radio feed on her vortex manipulator and introduces the younger River to swing dancing and big band music. They happily bounce and groove, making up complex rhythms with their feet and spinning around in each other's arms. The sound of their blended laughter is hypnotically blissful, and one ponders that the meeting of two Rivers has never produced something so sweet. Eventually, the girl's eyes begin to droop from the activity and excitement, not used to having someone understand her for so long and continuous a time the way this River does.

They are so similar, in their smarts and sadness, and the way they each have the best love of a young Doctor. The blonde tucks the brunette gently into bed, briefly flashing her sonic into the girl's chocolate locks, frowning at the implications of its readout. Banishing her own memories to the locked cage in the back of her mind, she presses a gentle kiss to the girl's forehead as a safeguard against bad dreams, before slipping out in search of a new playmate. There's a few hours til dinnertime yet, and she can't wait to see what else she can get into before then.

**A/N: next up, some fun with the Washburnes!**


	3. Wash, Rinse, Repeat

_Chapter 3: Wash, Rinse, Repeat, or Adventures of Curly Haired Amazons in Space_

The Captain has told her she can go anywhere as long as she doesn't cause too much trouble. (She supposes she should get used to calling him Mal; informality makes more sense, no matter how short a time she may be here.) But she's decided the bridge is as good a place as any to start. She can see who's flying this thing (unless she's flying herself, although River doubts it) and what sort of "not too much trouble" she can get up to with whatever new faces she comes across.

**Wash**- once he's gotten over the shock of another curly haired amazon on board- and this one apparently roaming with the captain's permission - he's delighted to swap piloting stories as she examines his console and the intricacies of the flight deck. The air is warm here, and River eases out of her white Diesel Gisil coat- catching Wash's appreciative glance at the gauzy black tank she's wearing underneath as she refastens the leather cincher at her waist. _Men,_ she thinks with a smile and a toss of her head that sends her curls bouncing. _The same the universe over._ And she wouldn't have it any other way.

Zoe's not around, so he risks a comment about her outfit; she teases him in kind about his impressive Hawaiian shirt collection. When she spots the tiny plasticine dinosaurs at the controls, she smiles, and Wash braces himself for comments about how childish it is and how ridiculous a hobby it is for a grown man to like. When a few moments pass in silence, he braves a look at her face, and sees an almost reverent expression as she gently strokes the fringe on the back of one toy. She tells him of how she dealt with these things once or twice in the past, and he hangs on her every word like a delighted child as she weaves her tales of dinosaurs in space. When Zoe comes by to check on things, River is behind the controls, getting a flying lesson from Wash as he regales her with his "juggling of baby geese" story. She ponders the archaeological ramifications of such a society between her giggles.

**Zoe**- Zoe isn't jealous of the woman with the golden ringlets; really, she's not. Nor is she concerned when she arrives on the bridge and sees the adoration in her husband's eyes directed at the woman putting Serenity through a few paces. If she sensed for a moment any real threat from their temporary passenger, there would be blood and bullets - or at least handcuffs involved - before you could say _bizui_.

But she finds herself, well, fascinated by the woman. There's the hair (obviously) but there's also her laugh, and the way her nose wrinkles, and the way she holds a gun like it's a part of her arm, and moves like she hears music and is shifting to the beat. It starts with a drink - just one - and a quick conversation, and somehow they bond. They bond over being weapon-wielding warrior women in space with mad hair, in love with madder men. They sit back to back and disassemble the other's weapon, seeing how fast they can get it back together; River wins, but only because there's a guide component that insists on hovering out of Zoe's reach until River uses an iso-net to catch it.

They laugh together and Zoe lets her hair down in more ways than one. Once the guns are reassembled, they sit facing, and each takes a curl of the other's and winds it around their index finger, just absorbing the feel of it and staring into each other's eyes, having a silent conversation in their smiles. This is how they are when Jayne stumbles in to find River. He is halfway through a lewd comment about the odd behavior when, without taking their eyes off one another, each has a weapon cocked and aimed at vulnerable anatomy. He swallows back the rest of the statement, clears his throat, and issues a polite (for Jayne) invitation to show River his guns.

She waves him out with a flick of her meson blaster, and he leaves to wait in the hall. Guns holstered, the Amazons smile at one another, and embrace amidst their giggles. Rising together, Zoe walks her new sister to the door, and with a perfectly timed mutual tug on their untamable locks, River departs with a grin. Zoe's smile grows wider when she hears a **_whap_** before Jayne grumbles and two sets of boots take off down the hall.

**A/N: sorry about the delay. to make up for it, I'm posting a double. coming up next, the man they call Jayne... gets his butt whipped.**


	4. River, meet Jayne Jayne, meet floor

_Chapter 4: The Man They Call Jayne... Gets His Ass Kicked_

**Jayne**- As they walk down the hallway, Jayne lets the curly haired mystery gets a pace or two ahead. He has temporarily shoved aside his fascination with that magnificent crown of hair she's got, and is unabashedly checking out her ass in those impressively tight pants. He's jerked out of his thoughts by her sudden about face and slams to a stop a few inches from crashing into her. "So, are we going any place particularly, or are you just going to let me wander all over this ship whilst you moon over my backside?" She crosses her arms while he stutters for an answer, the movement pushing up her already prominent chest and causing Jayne to swallow. Hard.

"Well, uh... See I reckoned you might appreciate the dime tour is all." The smile he manages to punctuate _that_ flash of brilliance is a bit too tight and falters the longer she stares. "Course, if there was any place you were especially wantin' to see, I'd be more'n happy to squire you up there." He tries the smile again, but realizes it's probably slightly more feral than friendly. "Ma'am."

Those intense eyes- the same shade as those jade gewgaws of 'Nara's- narrow like a gunsight and Jayne feels tiny beads of sweat pop out along his brow. "Don't call me 'ma'am'; I work for a living! Now you have 10 seconds to decide if you'd like to show me something constructive or be a brutish boring thug somewhere away from my company, before I-" "Before you _what_... ma'am?" Jayne snarls in reply; he don't cotton to females treating him like a hired hand (even if almost every one on this ship does it) and he definitely ain't putting up with it from a sassy newcomer. Even if he does have the unshakable urge to kiss her senseless... or shoot her.

River leans in confidentially, her eyes still alight with emerald flame. "Before I kick your backwater arse so hard, any time you're _lucky_ enough to have a thought, it's going to have to play hopscotch over my toes to get there!" They are about two inches apart by the time her comment roars to a close, and Jayne rears back, shaking his head against the ringing in his ears. Once it clears, he feels a genuine grin- the kind he usually only gets at the sight of a letter from home or a **really** big pile of platinum- stretching his features. He flings an arm out like a signpost ahead of them, gesturing her on with a jerk of his head. "Ma'am... I'd like to see you try."

* * *

He hadn't meant it to become a gorram spectator event, but somehow the entire crew (with the exception of their Companion, who's currently off on assignment) ends up in the cargo bay, placing bets and cheering as he and River prepare to spar. Jayne's expectation is that he'll probably pin, maim or kill her sometime inside of 15 minutes. The reality? Jayne spends the better part of an hour getting his ass handed to him in a variety of hitherto unseen ways.

She utilizes Judo, forms of Ju Jitsu, a Martian variant of Krav Maga, and a Venusian devotee of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's unique rework of bartitsu - the martial art of choice for Sherlock Holmes - to send Jayne over her shoulder, under her heel, across her knee, beneath her hip, and flying through the air to land on his back on the floor... over and over and over again. He finally gives in when she's had him pinned and squirming for nearly 5 minutes using only 2 fingers and the toe of one boot. She releases him and does a quick victory turn, soaking up the admiring cheers of the crew and turning down her "cut" of the winnings with a royal little wave.

Jayne picks himself (and whatever shards of dignity remain) off the floor, trying to reconcile his shameful defeat at the hands of a woman with the creeping arousal being in close proximity to her had unleashed. Shaking himself off and straightening his clothes, he invites her to his room for a drink. She accepts with the caveat- mentioned in such a stage whisper as to be audible to everyone in the area - that if he tries anything, she'll pull his spleen out through his nose.

When they arrive, he introduces her to Vera and the rest of his "girls" and she gamely shares her Alpha Meson blaster, which after a careful perusal, he ceremoniously dubs Vera's little sister before handing it back and offering her a drink. They crack open a bottle of Mudder's Milk, left over from their fateful trip to Canton. When she begins rattling off comparisons to the Ancient Egyptians and the liquid bread they fed the Hebrews, Jayne mutters "not again" under his breath and gives her rein of the bar.

She makes do with his supplies and a lemon she'd palmed from the kitchen, creating a passable version of a drink created in her honor in a 24th century Manhattan bar called a Sonic Screwdriver. (The joke had originally been that it was a Sonic Screwed River, but a few well placed electro-darts in the barkeep's knee precipitated a name change.) They toast to firepower and knock back the shooters. River smiles through her grimace, and a shake of her head sends her curls dancing. Jayne is pondering just how much he'd miss his spleen when his head tries to implode. Waiting for his eyes to stop rattling in his skull, he stares down at the empty glass, then at the woman who prepared it, who's watching him with a casual shrug. Eh. Better than a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster anyway.

River whips up one more drink, then leaves Jayne in a light coma - cuddling Vera and mumbling about bar tabs - to go see if any help is needed before dinner.

**A/N: stay frosty, people. we still have Mal, Inara, and Kaylee to go. and the Doctor needs to come get her at some point, right?**


	5. The Preacher & The Professor

_Chapter 5- The Preacher and the Professor  
Summary: if the only guy who could ever reach River was the son of a preacher man... well, Book would've married, huh? a little sweet and sour in the kitchen._

**Shepherd- **When she arrives back in the kitchen, Shepherd Book is reading at the dinner table, a small smile on his face. He says nothing as she peeks into cabinets, asking little questions out loud and seemingly getting no reply. Finally she whips around, hands on hips and head tipped to one side, and asks "And what are you grinning at, preacher?"

He regards her a moment, then closes his book and crosses to the countertop, keeping it between them. "For starts, I'm a Shepherd. Book, if you prefer." Her hands slide down to drop off her hips and clasp in front of her. With her downcast eyes and quivering lips, she looks almost shy. "I have sort of a... love/hate relationship with books." "Oh? Did you scribble in the texts at school?" The side of her mouth that quirks up drops almost as quickly. "No... books are great. Lovely, really. My mother and I... wrote one once and they can," she pauses to finger the worn edge of a blue leather... something in her pouch on the countertop before continuing, "even be useful at times, but the last time I was around a **lot** of books, it... turned out to be not so good for my health."

The pain in her voice, now practically a whisper, cuts him deeply. This is not the woman who's been a vexing delight to the rest of the crew. Every person he's spotted on the catwalks has been grinning with a little dazed sparkle in their eye, and it seems to be connected to the woman standing before him. It seems only fair someone try to put the light back in hers, and in a hurry.

He walks slowly to her side of the island as he speaks, his voice low, soothing, conversational. "Well, if it helps, I'm the only one here at the moment, and I certainly wouldn't harm you. Wouldn't appreciate getting hit with a charge for the extinction of a rare species." She slides a glance at him, and that ghost of a smile stays out this time. "And what species might that be, Shepherd?" His hands clasp behind his back as he leans in conspiratorially. "Why, the rare River Song. Apparently only found once in a lifetime- if that. I should consider myself blessed to have glimpsed something so special."

Her demeanor is more relaxed and open, despite the arms crossed under her chest, and the smile is shining in earnest as she gives her head a little shake. "I'm nothing special, sweetie. Really I'm not. I mean, I'm _unusual_ in being a time-traveling archaeologist with two hearts married to a 12 year old god I was brainwashed into murdering... and you have no idea what traveling by vortex manipulator does to my hair." He chuckles at that, and it's a warm smooth sound, like steaming hot chocolate in wintertime. "But I am a professor- and someday a Doctor in my own right- and I got to marry the love of my life and grow up with my parents and see things that don't even exist anymore and I'm good friends with a spaceship." Her nose wrinkles as she lets out a quiet sniffle. "And I really like this one, and her crew has been crazy and wonderful... but it doesn't change the fact I ended up on the wrong ship."

"I wouldn't be so sure" Shepherd directs this to the tomatoes he's begun slicing for the sauce. "Maybe you were _meant_ to get on a Firefly. At least for a while."

She handles a knife with a dexterity that makes him a little nervous, but she's presently using it to cut beef into strips with a little frown. "What makes you so sure?"

He rinses the blade and moves onto mushrooms before he replies. "Experience. When I first got to the Serenity, I'd been out of the abbey two days. Within 24 hours, I'd beaten a lawman senseless, watched the captain shoot the man I had sworn to protect- to this day I'm not even sure if I think he was wrong- and discovered I'd fallen in with an outlaw band of space cowboys. I thought I was on the wrong ship. But then I figured out I was-"

"Exactly where you were supposed to be," River finishes with a dazzling grin. They resume chopping and mincing in a companionable silence, until Book turns to get spices from the cabinet.

"And River... for what it's worth?" "Yes?" "I'm fairly certain everyone who meets you thinks you're damn special."

Over the next half hour, they finish prepping dinner, share a glass of wine and have a rousing topological debate about religion. She tells him one of her secrets, he shares one of his. They smile at one another during dinner and she doesn't even mind the less than rabbinical thoughts she knows she's inspired in the man. He doesn't mind either.

**A/N: sorry about the wait. the next three chapters are gonna be hot, fluffy, and up soon!**

**I know it might seem a bit out of character, but I think if she *were* going to open up to anyone, it would be Shepherd. there's no one else around, and amidst the trails of adoring crewmembers she's leaving in her wake, I think maybe she's feeling the separation from the Doctor and her TARDIS. plus the book connection was just... too hard to pass up.  
this chapter was originally only the last paragraph. like just those few lines. it developed into this.**


	6. Show Me the Stars

_Chapter 6- wherein River and the Captain share some space..._

Mal- Even though it's after dinner, the crew pounds the table until they consent to a tight pants contest. River wins hands down, of course (even Mal agrees there is no rival for those jodhpurs) but the fun the crew has as the two of them strut and sashay is infectious and liberating and a perfect complement to the pleasant meal they've just shared.

Wash heads off to take Serenity off auto-pilot, and the crew cleans up with hardly a fuss, and Mal asks if he can claim her for a spell. She consents, taking his proffered arm and waving good night to the rest. They debate retiring to his cabin, but he slips down the ladder for a bottle before leading her to the bridge. Relieving a surprised Wash of duty, Mal tells him to get down to Zoe with an affectionate smile. He takes the pilot's chair and she alights on the ledge of the control panel, and they sit and sip and stare out at the stars, happy in their silence. Eventually he finds himself more drawn to the glow in her jade green eyes than the shimmering starlight and when she notices, she slides onto his lap with an air of approval. They share a kiss, sweet and simple and gently flavored by time and the taste of open air when you're smiling and the rich burn of the liquor. Neither presses to make it more, and they part with half-hooded gazes and contented smiles.

She stays perched on his knee, one arm softly around her waist, her back against his chest, his chin on her shoulder as they watch the night swirl by. They talk about what it feels like to die, and to truly live, and the freedom of life on their own terms (well, more or less) out here in the verse. She turns and presses a kiss to his temple and he listens to the beats of her hearts. Eventually she slips out of his hold and he makes no move to stop her.

The soft _whoosh _of the hatch sounds behind him, but he doesn't hear her step through. Turning to look at her, he watches her standing in the doorway, three-quarter facing the hall, looking like she has something else to say. Just as he's convinced she won't, she swallows hard and speaks softly, urging him to tell her before it's too late. He doesn't insult her by asking who she means- although he's right curious to know just how she does. But he does ask why. It's a short question but far from simple, and she merely winks at him over her shoulder and whispers "Spoilers" before vanishing into the night.

**A/N: I know I said I would post more regularly, but eh. Life. anyway, up next, it's bedtime!**


	7. Companion Ship

_Chapter 7: the Companion and the Archaeologist... in bed, bath, and beyond._

Inara- when River wanders back from the bridge, seeking whatever passes on this Firefly for a cuppa, she's surprised to find the entire crew still in the kitchen. The Washburnes are cuddled up in the same chair, happily engaged in a snog. Jayne, Simon and the Shepherd are playing some sort of card game and discussing the "combat exhibition" earlier. The other River is reproducing a Cezanne sketch on a box of protein. Kaylee is rebuilding an engine piece in the middle of the floor while a stunningly beautiful brunette combs her hair, but notices River hovering in the doorway and pops up with a grin.

"River!" Every eye turns to follow as Kaylee tugs her in by the hand like a child eager to show off a toy. "'Nara? This is River Song. She's a doctor a sorts- not like Simon or nothin', but... well, she sure is shiny." The girl glows in her admiration of the woman before turning to complete the introductions. "River, this is Inara Serra. Lady and Companion... and my friend." She starts to slip her other arm around Inara's silk-clad waist, but then stops, noticing her grease blackened fingertips. She swallows and pulls back, spotting the smudged handprint she's stamped on River's hip and blushing a delicate pink. "Oh. Sorry. Guess I better go... wash up. Scuse me." Stooping to scoop up the engine piece from the ground, the mechanic ignores the ladies' attempts to forestall her and runs from the room.

Zoe and Wash scramble up next. "I think it's probably about time for bed, anyway," Zoe states in a casual tone that still dares anyone to challenge the suggestion. Jayne starts to argue, but that particular look Zoe shoots him is almost as terrifying as either unpredictable River on board. He shuts his mouth and collects the cards into an untidy pile without another word.

At the realization she's not sure where she's supposed to sleep, River asks for blankets, figuring she can rack out in the hold- when Inara offers to let her spend the night in her shuttle. In fact, everyone offers to let River bunk with them, even Zoe- who pipes up when Wash swallows back his invitation. (Actually, she offers to share their quarters if River doesn't mind 3 to a bed... and follows that if she does, Wash can always sleep on the bridge.) But the Companion is the somewhat obvious choice, being the only one besides Mal and the mechanic without any one- on- one time with the stranger as of dinnertime. She had arrived back late from a 3 day rendezvous in a nearby port town, and been greeted with the flurry of excitement over their guest when she came to the kitchen for a late supper.

River bids everyone a good night- hugging Zoe, other River and the Shepherd, sharing a Roman handshake with Wash, pressing a kiss to Simon's cheek and slugging Jayne on the shoulder- before letting Inara lead her off to the shuttle.

She prepares tea even though River is no client, and lays out silk dressing gowns, and they bathe each other in the steamy water chamber Kaylee had rigged up in her docking station. Inara's silky perfumed tresses prove a source of fascination for the traveler, and she takes great care unpinning them and gently threading her fingers through once theys head on her breast, and soothes her to rest with a song of Derillium.

Gathering the bundle of her clothes with a last kiss to her sleeping lover's ruby lips, River wraps a gown of midnight blue around her and leaves Inara swathed in spiced silk and sweet dreams, inhaling in the scent of River's pillow.

**A/N: so I had to put in a bit of hot and sweet. hope you liked it.**

**just one more chapter to go. thanks for reading and I hope you like what's coming next!**


	8. Serenity, Kaylee, and Idris Makes Three

_Chapter 8- in which there are engine room cuddles, and the Doctor comes to take River home..._

Kaylee- River pads unseen down to the engine room and pauses at the threshold, surprised and not to see the young mechanic in her hammock. During their brief chat at dinner- River had been a popular conversationalist **and** topic at the table, and everyone had talked over and around and to and about her- Kaylee had expressed understanding of River's need to be comforted by the engine, and Serenity's gentle whirring soothes her like a TARDIS lullaby. The gentle sway of Kaylee's hammock and the warm weight of the young mechanic against her back add to the peace of the moment. Kaylee's arm had snaked around her ribs when she'd slid in, curling against her like a teddy bear and snuggling her face into River's curls.

Her fingers knit with Kaylee's and she closes her eyes a moment before lifting their hands to her nose and sniffing._ Ahhh,_ she thinks. That's _what that is_. Kaylee is possessed of a strange but charming scent that comprised of engine grease, strawberries, baby powder and a hint of something that River could only determine as a garden in summertime- warm, floral and sweet with a trace of damp earth. The girl smells like happiness, that smell small children have when they are content and well loved. River closes her eyes against the tears that threaten at the thought, and instead lets herself drift into a dream, where 6 little girls held hands as they ran through a sunlit field of colorful flowers. There is a sweet brunette with a pink wrench, a shy girl with chocolate locks, a stunning beauty with raven waves, a bronze amazon, a pale redhead with hair that catches fire in the sunlight, and a golden haired wild child. She knows them all, and the tears flow.

Her cheeks are stiff with dried tears when the TARDIS finally whooshes into place, and she hears rather than sees the door open, her Doctor poking his head out of the cloaked doorway. He whispers into the mellow light of the engine room, "Hi honey. I'm here." He has a moment to breathe in the peace of it all as his old girl and the Serenity have a brief chat in hushed rumbles, before River mumbles back a reply. "And what sort of time do you call this?"

She disengages herself and eases out of the hammock, sending it swinging again with a soft push as Kaylee drifts back to sleep, content in her canvas cradle. Her clothes are tossed through the opening with muted accuracy, and she alights on the engine casing as the Doctor takes her hand and pulls her into his arms with a soft kiss. A shaft of glowing light marks the still invisible doorway, and her hand emerges in midair and snaps once before the door clicks closed behind them.

With a whir of farewell, the TARDIS dematerializes, headed for the vortex, for the night behind, back into the black.

**A/N: so there we go. my final bit. sorry about the delay; problems on the site meant posting took a while. hope you liked it. thanks for sticking through the read, and coming along for the ride I created.**

**comments are appreciated, whether you liked it or not.**


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